This is a poem for my father,
who's spirit
warmed the walls of our cramped apartment
and my battered heart;
who taught me
to use a hand saw
when I was ten;
who cried on my shoulder,
when I was thirteen;
who's been what I've wished for, every Christmas
for as long as I can remember;
who my heart yearns for
and who I daily pray for.
Even if,
I never again see your face,
watch the sunrise with you
on your mother's porch,
feel your tender kiss on my forehead,
or hear you profess your love for me.....
Know that,
even as my tears smudge
the ink on this paper as I write to you ,
You will always be
one of the most beautiful souls
that I have ever known.
_______________________________________________________________
He's not dead, just absent and I miss him very much; everyday.
X Chyna
